


Aperture Science

by merelydovely



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Dick in a Box, Halloween, Humor, M/M, Non-Binary Jean Prouvaire, Pining Grantaire, Pre-Slash, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-27 19:41:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12589140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merelydovely/pseuds/merelydovely
Summary: In which Grantaire fucks a pumpkin. Forscience.





	Aperture Science

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in like two hours while killing time at work. I hope it makes you laugh :)

“Aww, look at Jehan’s pumpkin,” cooed Courfeyrac. “It’s so scared!”

Not everyone had gone the classic route of putting a face on their pumpkin – Cosette had chosen a witch’s cauldron for her design, and Enjolras’ pumpkin simply said KAKISTOCRACY – but those who had drawn faces had mainly opted for scary over adorable. Musichetta’s pumpkin was a terrifying rendition of Oogie Boogie, Feuilly’s sported teeth easily three inches long, and Grantaire had outdone himself with a flawless bas-relief carving of a fiendishly grinning Donald Trump.

Jehan, however, had gone with a very simple design: two warped triangular eyes with round pupils, and a perfectly circular mouth, pursed in an “O!” of fright.

“I dunno,” said Grantaire. “I think it kinda looks like it’s sucking a dick.”

“Rude!” exclaimed Joly, too loudly. He was already quite drunk, though still mostly conscious, unlike Bossuet, who had fallen asleep letting an equally drunk Musichetta draw another Oogie Boogie on the top of his bald head. The three of them were now cuddled up to each other on the broad, waist-high brickwork running the length of the far end of Courfeyrac’s back yard, where the glowing pumpkins had been collected at the beginning of the night.

“No, actually…” said Jehan, tilting their head to one side and regarding their creation closely, “he’s quite right. I see it now. It’s a bit like one of those rabbit-or-duck pictures. ”

“Yeah, in that if you’re constantly thinking about sucking cock, you’re sure to see fellatio everywhere,” snarked Courfeyrac.

“That wouldn’t explain why  _you_  didn’t see it,” said Combeferre mildly, waltzing out of the shadows to join them. 

Courfeyrac opened his mouth to retort, then closed it, inclining his head in deference to a superior argument. 

Jehan was angling his pumpkin left and right, causing the tealight inside to slide back and forth. “Could you actually fit your cock in there?” they asked Grantaire. (They were possibly a little drunk as well.)

“Um,” said Grantaire. He squinted at the pumpkin’s mouth. “I’m not sure.”

“Aha!” said Joly, in the molasses-slow voice of the thoroughly drunk. “This calls for…  _science!”_ He groped excitedly for Grantaire’s shoulder. “Youm’st… you must…  _ex… spearmint!”_

“Experiment?” echoed Grantaire, smiling indulgently at his friend.

Joly made a floppy hand gesture that was probably supposed to be illuminating. “Y’gotta…  _fuck_ …th’pumpkin.”

“Or you could simply measure your girth at full hardness, then compare it to the circumference of the—” began Combeferre, but he was interrupted by Joly shushing him loudly.

 _“Fuck. The. Pumpkin,”_  Joly repeated insistently.  _“Fuuuuuuck_  the pumpkin.” He clutched at Grantaire with both hands, his face an inch from Grantaire’s nose, slurring outrageously. “R. Iss for  _science.”_

Grantaire laughed helplessly. “Well, you heard the man,” he said, gently removing Joly’s hands from his shoulders and helping Joly lean his head onto Musichetta’s back, whereupon he snuggled up to her and to all appearances went to sleep. Grantaire turned back to the group. “It’s for  _science.”_

With all the nonchalance of someone completely inured to making a fool of himself, Grantaire undid his zipper and reached inside his pants. His eyelids fluttered closed as his hand began to move, his hardening cock quickly peeking out of the fly in his boxers. “ _Ahh,_ fuck.” 

“Are you really going to — oh my  _god_ ,” hissed Courfeyrac, trying to sound horrified and failing. His eyes darted between Grantaire’s crotch and Jehan’s pumpkin.

Combeferre didn’t even bother to hide his curiosity. “I wonder what it would feel like,” he said. “A more complete experiment would surely include penetrating a pumpkin without removing its insides first. I postulate it would provide more of a feeling of enclosure and would be better lubricated, but would overall be a worse experience due to the coldness, whereas this pumpkin, though empty, has at least been warmed by its candle.”

“I’ll try to report the qualifiable data to your satisfaction,” said Grantaire in a breathy voice, his hand now working his cock outside his boxers, in full view of the group. “Somebody wanna get rid of that fire hazard for me?”

Wordlessly, Jehan removed the top of pumpkin and extracted the glowing tealight.

“Okay… here goes nothing,” said Grantaire, and he fed the head of his cock into the round mouth of the pumpkin. The gathered onlookers held their collective breath.

It fit. 

Barely.

“Ooof,” huffed Grantaire. “Fuck, that was colder than I was hoping it was going to be.”

“Fascinating,” said Combeferre. “It appears the tealight had less of an effect than predicted. Can you move?”

Grantaire rocked slowly into the pumpkin. “Yeah,” he said, unnecessarily. “It’s still pretty slick. My dick’s gonna smell like pumpkin for a week, isn’t it?” he added mournfully.

“Surely that’s a pro rather than a con,” put in Courfeyrac. “Everybody loves pumpkin-flavored things.”

“Oh yeah? You volunteering to taste-test?” said Grantaire, leering at Courfeyrac. His hips rocked a little faster. “The hole’s kinda tight,” he added for Combeferre’s benefit. “Like, it’s slick enough I can get in and out, but it’s reminding me of my high-school death grip phase. My dick’s rubbing up against the floor of the pumpkin and that feels okay, except the top’s open to the air which is, nnn, not ideal. But it’s warmer now,” he added brightly.

“Mm,” said Combeferre. “The friction. Yes.”

There was lull in the narration then, and the only sound was the slap-slap-slapping of Grantaire humping the pumpkin, his brow furrowed in the sober concentration befitting a detached and objective sexologist.

“I’m not sure I can come from this,” Grantaire observed, his hips slowing.

He had just come to a complete stop, the pumpkin motionless where it had started on the low brick wall, when suddenly out of the darkness came a new voice.

“Courf, I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” said Enjolras. “Somebody’s waterproof phone is on the bottom of the pool and none of us can find the leaf skimmer.” 

“It’s on a hook around the back of the poolhouse,” said Courfeyrac automatically. 

“Awesome, thanks,” said Enjolras, oblivious. “What are you all doing over here, anyway?”

There was a pause. The amateur researchers shared several panicked glances. Then, finally:

“Science,” said Grantaire, in a high and strangled voice. He was holding Jehan’s pumpkin in front of himself like a shield, tilting it upward so that Enjolras, still several yards away, couldn’t see inside.

“Oh?” said Enjolras, his interest piqued.

One moment he was peering over at the pumpkin clutched in Grantaire’s hands, and the next, before anyone could stop him, he’d cleared the distance between them and stared straight down into the pumpkin’s depths.

Enjolras let out a sharp gasp. His eyes flashed upward to meet Grantaire’s, then dipped down again immediately. Up, down. Up… down.  _Down_. His gaze was fixed on whatever it was he could see inside the pumpkin as he slowly licked his lips, then worried at the lower one with his teeth. His cheeks had gone very red.

“And… what kind of…  _science…_ is this?” asked Enjolras.  

Grantaire let out a small whimper.

It was Combeferre who answered. “Interdisciplinary,” he said, doing his best David Attenborough impression. “Primarily natural science, with some aspects falling under the social science umbrella, of course.”

“Of course,” said Enjolras, his normally smooth, light voice husky and low. He was making eye contact with Grantaire now, Grantaire who had clearly never had a more terrifying Halloween experience in his entire life.

“We were just wrapping up, weren’t we, R?” said Jehan helpfully.

“The experiment  _had_  reached its natural conclusion,” agreed Combeferre.

No one moved.

“…Grantaire?” prompted Courfeyrac. “Wanna take Little R out of there, buddy?”

“Can’t,” said Grantaire, strained. His eyes never left Enjolras. “Stuck.” 

“But you were fine before,” objected Courfeyrac. “We all saw, you—“

“Experimental parameters changed,” Grantaire ground out. “New factors were introduced.”

“New factors—oh my  _god,”_ exclaimed Courfeyrac again. “Enjolras, stop eyefucking the poor man, you’re going to cut off all circulation to his dick and it’ll fall off and  _then_  where will you be?”

“What?” said Enjolras, shaking his head a little like a person woken from a nap. “I—what?”

“Come on, let’s get that leaf skimmer,” said Courfeyrac, dragging Enjolras away by the sleeve. “Don’t worry, I’m sure R will give you a private show later.”

They could still hear Enjolras spluttering  _“What?!”_ as the two of them disappeared into the dark.

“Come on, R, think of unsexy things,” said Jehan cheerfully. “Toxic waste, paper cuts, Republicans—”

“He looked at my cock and  _licked his lips_ ,” whined Grantaire. 

“Yes, but you’ve also got your dick stuck in a pumpkin,” countered Jehan. “Should be enough of a boner-killer all on its own, really.”

Grantaire sighed. “Title of my sex tape,” he said morosely, and with a barely-audible  _pop!_ his dick came free. “I’m never gonna live this down, am I?”

“I should imagine not,” said Combeferre gravely. “Especially because we’re going to have to tell everyone this is how you and Enjolras finally got together.”

“I volunteer to give a first-hand account at your wedding,” put in Jehan.

Now it was Grantaire’s turn to splutter  _“What?!”_

His friends’ gleeful laughter would not have been out of place coming from the wicked grins of the flickering pumpkins on the wall beside them.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the following prompt, which was sent in to [@les-amis-de-nsfw](http://les-amis-de-nsfw.tumblr.com/) on Halloween night.
>
>> which ami has their dick stuck in a pumpkin tonight
> 
>   
> Send in one of your own [here](http://les-amis-de-nsfw.tumblr.com/ask)!
> 
> Comments and kudos are so very appreciated, you have NO IDEA, unless you're also an author and then YOU UNDERSTAND.
> 
> Notes:
> 
>   * Aperture Science is the name of the company in the Portal games. It also means "the science of holes."
>   * "Kakistocracy" means "governance by the worst people" and it's what Enjolras finds scariest.
>   * Bas-relief is a type of shallow sculpture on a wall-like surface.
> 



End file.
